apocalypsehow | Reading

Duke had spent most of the week working on the boats, making sure they were weathering the cold well enough, and had managed to miss the drama of Wednesday's truth telling.

He felt a little bad for that, honestly, and now that he'd confirmed that everything was properly shipshape, he set about making himself at least feel a bit better by fussing around in the galley to make breakfast.

Waffles were an obvious choice, but instead this time Duke went with toutons, made in butter rather than pork fat, with molasses and apple butter to go with them. For protein, he soft-boiled some eggs. He had water boiling for coffee, and batter prepared for hot buttered rum if Lucifer decided he'd rather have that this morning.

The result? A steamy, spice-scented galley was waiting for his partners when they decided to join him.

[for the partners]

grenadesandohana

Steve hadn't noticed anything going horribly wrong today until he called back to Honolulu when Hawaii finally woke up. Chin's lazy "Howzit," reply had led to Steve unloading about how he actually was for two solid minutes before he could get himself to shut up.

So now he was working from home. In his room. With the door locked.

Very normal.

[OOC: for Danno.]

pocketpretzels

So the nice thing about living in a house that could rearrange itself on a whim was that... it could rearrange itself on a whim.

Hence why the kitchen currently had a fireplace in one wall, with a fire cheerily crackling away (and a cat happily sprawled in front of it).

Watts was at the stove, finishing up frying the last few slices of a batch of French toast. "Nearly done," he reported to Steven, though the latter could likely see as much from where he was slicing the fruit they'd be using for toppings.

[ooc: for the husband, and NFB please.]

imafuturist

Tony had meant to do something nice for Steve after they got back from their class and all the snow involved in it. He'd really meant to. But instead he'd immediately gotten pulled into a project after a phone call from his R&D department back in New York, needing a solution before Pepper got an ulcer from the stress.

Which meant he went straight to the lab to work it out. And then that turned into tinkering with his dozens of other Stark Industries based projects in various states of completion.

And then from there, he was working on a version of the suit. Mark... look, the number wasn't important. The important thing was that he'd forgotten the original plan. Which he'd realize at some point, right?

[for the hubbie]

deathsmajesty

Liliana was scrolling through her phone, looking at warm places. Carnival in Argentina was very late this year, not until mid-February, which meant that while they certainly could go to their Argentine villa to celebrate Ignis' birthday, they could also choose to go somewhere else and visit the villa when Carnival proper was happening.

Wherever they went, however, Liliana was demanding that it be warm. None of this snow nonsense. She'd book them a trip to the Jund, first.

deathsmajesty

Liliana woke up, looked out the window, and laughed at the very idea of going to work in this kind of weather. Absolutely not. Her existence as a shopkeep was on sufferance at the best of times, which this was not. Her job for today was to entreat Ignis to help her discover how many different warm beverages she could drink before dinner, and possibly to discover the minimum amount of clothing she could wear without being unduly bothered by the outside chill.

...Both of which she'd get to after sleeping a little while longer. Nothing about this weather made getting out of bed desirable.

Hmm, perhaps she had been too ambitious with those aforementioned jobs. A better idea might be to convince Ignis to come back to bed and stay there with her for the rest of the day...

Regardless of what she was doing, it wasn't going to involve leaving the house--unless they were portaling somewhere warmer instead.

[Establishy, but certainly open for texts, callers ridiculous enough to go out in the cold, and, of course, the gentleman so referenced!]

grenadesandohana

It wasn't entirely because Steve was a delicate hothouse flower and the East Coast was going to be cold as hell this weekend that Steve and Danny were back in Hawai'i! They had things to do in Honolulu! Family things! Yes!

Family things involving surfing and then sitting on the beach and charging up on the sun like a 6-foot plus human solar panel while Charlie worked on a sand castle.

Steve was cleaning the last of the breakfast dishes when the doorbell rang. His forehead crinkled: he wasn't expecting anyone, and the people he knew wouldn't ring the doorbell. He calmed down his hyper-vigilance by reminding his brain that serial killers wouldn't ring the doorbell, either, and sauntered to the door with a dishtowel over his shoulder...and a pocketknife in his back pocket. Just in case.

He answered the door and found a painfully earnest kid in his Navy work uniform who snapped to immediate attention.

"Commander McGarrett?"

"Yes?" Steve replied, sounding a little wary.

"Special Operator 2nd Class Junior Reigns. It's an honor to meet you, sir," the infant replied.

God, had Steve really been this young at one point? "Nice to meet you, Junior," Steve replied. "Please relax. I'm, um, I'm not on Teams anymore." And that only sort of killed him to say. Progress! "What can I do for you?"

"Uh, my Master Chief David Lange always spoke very highly of you," Junior said with a hopeful smile.

"David Lange?" Steve chuckled a little self-consciously. Lange had been at the bar in Annapolis a few weeks ago. This felt like a subtle (for SEALs) intervention, getting checked on by a younger version of himself. At least it wasn't an intervention from Dick Pic Scott. Steve would never get over that.

"He's your master chief? He was my dive buddy," Steve said with what he hoped didn't look like a slightly awkward smile.

"He mentioned that," Junior said with a much less awkward smile. "He says you're the best."

"Well, don't believe everything David Lange says," Steve said, running his hand through his hair. "When you headed back downrange?"

"Actually, sir, I just processed out," Junior said, and his earnestness increased tenfold.

Steve knew exactly what Lange was trying now, but he had to confirm it. "Well... Special Operator 2nd Class Junior Reigns, I gotta say, I'm intrigued as to why you're standing on my porch this morning."

"I heard about the task force you run and, you know," Junior said, "the type of work you do, and... well, to tell you the truth, I need a job."

Of course he did. "Ahh," Steve said, nodding and praying for Danny to come rescue him.

[OOC: For Danny, who will not rescue him.]

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Number Five Hargreeves

Reading

The Cape Rouge, Friday morning

MCA #1, Wednesday afternoon

Midnight Manor Private Residence, Sunday Late Morning

Tony's Workshop in the Tiniest Version of the Stark Tower, Friday Evening

Liliana's Office, Thursday

Warm and Comfortable Mansion in the Snow-Covered Woods, Monday Mid-Morning

Steve & Danny's House, Honolulu

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March 2023

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